


Do It Like This

by Rave



Series: Some Girls [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rave/pseuds/Rave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my God,” Zayn says. He rolls over with a splash in Liam’s arms, poking at Liam’s belly. “You do! You think I’m bad in bed." </p><p>(follow-up to Some Girls. Zayn's woken up in a girl's body. Liam's just trying to help out.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do It Like This

**Author's Note:**

> oh it's just porn. you know. just some quick-draw 2am saturday bath sex porn, like you do.

“I dunno if I want to do it like this,” Liam says. 

Zayn leans back into Liam, one smooth calf hooking over the side of the bathtub. “Why not?” he says. His voice is languid, fucked out and a little hoarse. Five minutes ago Liam had him spread underwater, holding the pulsing jet of the showerhead against his cunt until he was sobbing for it. Now he’s drowsy and soft in Liam’s arms. His hair clings to his heat-pinked face and shoulders in damp tendrils. “How _do_ you want to do it? Cos I really, really want you to fuck me, so like, we can make adjustments.”

“It’s just that it’s not actually that easy, doing it underwater. You’d be surprised, like, you can’t get lubed up properly.” He rubs a hand down Zayn’s chest, palming over the warm wet curve of one breast, because he can. “I want you slick when I slide into you. Want to fuck you on my tongue again first, open you up -- get you so ready to take my dick that I can smell how bad you want it.”

“Fuck, stop,” Zayn says on a breathless laugh, nuzzling into Liam’s armpit. 

“Easier in a bed, that’s all I’m saying,” Liam says, stroking his shoulder. “And less likely you’ll get like, a UTI or summat. Danielle got one of those once and she was -- ”

“Hang on,” Zayn says abruptly, tilting his head back, a crease deepening between his dark brows. “I’ve fucked girls underwater.”

“Well, yes,” Liam amends. “But not on their first go-round, did you?”

“Are you saying they didn’t like it?” Zayn pushes.

“No!” Liam says. “Of course not. I’m sure they had a lovely time.” 

“Oh my God,” Zayn says. He rolls over with a splash in Liam’s arms, poking at Liam’s belly. “You do! You think I’m bad in bed. I knew you would when I told you I couldn’t get myself going --”

“Stop -- agh, don’t tickle me,” Liam says, twisting away from Zayn’s hands and grabbing his skinny wrists to hold them away. “I don’t think that at all. That’s madness.” He catches Zayn’s mouth for an instant, tongue sliding in deep and dirty, the pleasant clear taste of shower water on Zayn’s tongue. 

“Definitely not bad in bed,” he murmurs against Zayn’s lower lip.

“But with girls,” Zayn says. The word shapes itself strangely in his girl’s voice, his girl’s mouth, and it makes Liam shiver. 

“No,” he says after a moment. “I don’t.” Zayn brought a girl back to their shared room once -- just once -- and Liam still thinks sometimes about that night, how long it seemed, how he could hear the soft sea-cadence of Zayn’s murmur and the girl’s little indrawn breaths, muffled in Zayn’s palm or his mouth. 

“I’m not bad in bed,” Zayn says obstinately. His arms flex experimentally in Liam’s grip, but Liam keeps hold of him, because it’s nice to have hold of him. “You think Perrie would have put up with that?”

“Course not,” Liam agrees.

“I’ll show you bad in bed,” Zayn grumbles. He pushes forward to kiss Liam again, his mouth hot.

“Thing is, love,” Liam says confidingly, grinning at him as he pulls back, thumbing a wet strand of hair behind Zayn’s ear, “you’re so gorgeous I’m not sure you’d ever know. I’m not sure _they’d_ ever know. I mean like, from experience, you sort of black out, being so close to these cheekbones.” He kisses the sharp jut of the left one, releasing Zayn’s wrists.

“Fuck _off,_ ” Zayn says, and thumps Liam in the ribs, but he’s laughing, his ears pink. He rolls back over, sloshing water over the side of the tub, and settles his back against Liam’s chest again. “When Perrie, uh, you know, when we decided to take a break, she asked if we could still hook up when we’re in the same city. _She_ asked. So.”

Liam’s not sure exactly what to say for a second. It’s still such a strange, raw subject, and this thing between him and Zayn still feels fragile.

“What’d you tell her?” he says at last.

Zayn shrugs. “Said all right. Probably a bit optimistic of me, though. Be a bit much. I’d think we were still dating.”

Liam’s silent for a second. Then, without meaning to, he blurts, “Can I tell you something sleazy and gross?”

“Always,” Zayn says simply.

“I would, like. I’d do anything to see that. You and Perrie together.” He tightens his fingers on Zayn’s hip. He wishes he’d never started to say this, but it’s too late now, so. “Like, I know you love each other and it was like, a really intimate thing, I don’t mean to make it into just spank-bank stuff, I know how rank I’m being. But like -- I just. I’d commit _murder_ to see that.” 

Zayn considers, his fingers tracing slow circles in the droplets on Liam’s kneecap. 

Eventually he says, “Before, too, or just now?”.

“Probably before, too. But I never thought about it then. Definitely now.”

“Hmm,” Zayn says, a low, amused hum.

Then he reaches back and takes Liam in hand, thumb rubbing over the tip of his dick. Liam jolts at that, sighing hard into the back of Zayn’s neck.

“Seeing what, exactly?” Zayn goes on. His hand moves down Liam’s dick and then back up, excruciatingly slow, squeezing just a little. The water makes his grip seem to cling a little more, and his skin is seal-smooth on the insides of Liam’s thighs. “Just touching each other? Or me fucking her?” His voice drops a little. “Her fucking me?”

“Uh,” Liam says, hips inching up into Zayn’s touch. “Anything. Whatever.”

“Could you tell me?” Zayn says. His voice is soft and hopeful, innocent almost.

Liam breathes in. “Tell you --”

“What you’d, um. Want us to do, me and her,” Zayn says. He reaches down a little farther, palm curving around Liam’s balls, and Liam groans. “If you had us in a room, and. You know.”

“That won’t be -- be weird for you?”

“Maybe,” Zayn says. He turns his head, chin sharp in Liam’s shoulder, to nip at Liam’s earlobe. “But. It’ll be hot.” His other hand is at the nape of Liam’s neck now, his back arched, nipples jutting hard out of the water.

“Christ,” Liam says. He tightens his hand on Zayn’s belly to pull them flush together. Zayn rises and sinks on his knees a little, so Liam’s dick bumps teasingly down the hot slash of his cunt in the water, and Liam shudders. 

“So?”

“I’d --” Liam tries to think, to marshal the pornographic flashes of fantasy into words. “I guess I’d -- just watch you two make out for a bit first, honestly.”

“Ho hum,” Zayn says, throwing a sharp little smile over his shoulder. “You’ve seen that before.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Liam says feelingly. “Not when you’d both be so...soft, your skin and your hair and your mouths, and, like. With her hands in your hair. Her breasts all squished up on yours. But just making out to start. Maybe she’d like, hitch your leg up on her hip, hand up your shirt to squeeze your tits a little maybe, nothing more than that.”

“Slow start, but all right.” He’s pulling Liam off slowly now, rubbing his ass infuriatingly against Liam’s lower belly and the tops of his thighs. “You said skin. What am I wearing?” 

“You would want to know that,” Liam says, trailing a kiss down the side of his neck. “Vain little tart, aren’t you?” Zayn grips him a little tighter, makes a noise that isn’t denial. “One of my t-shirts. Just your knickers underneath, girls’....girls’ ones, black lace. ” 

“And her?”

Liam lets his head fall back, rocking into Zayn’s touch, grinning stupid and open-mouthed at the ceiling. “Uhh. Am I allowed to say?”

“I’m asking you to. Just don’t tell me if you ever thought about it when she was my girlfriend.”

“Never,” Liam says, sliding his hand down Zayn’s wet, smooth belly. Zayn’s curls are soft underwater, and his cunt is still swollen from coming, flush and tender under Liam’s fingertips. Zayn snuggles back against him, bucking into the touch, making a sound like a swallowed cry. 

“Little pink get-up, then. Matching bra and panties, suspenders, the whole thing.” 

For some reason he’s picturing, very clearly, the hotel room they shared in Seattle. There’s no reason that place should have stuck in his head: it was just like any other hotel room, big white bed, art on the walls that even Liam could tell wasn’t really art. But that’s where they are, him and Zayn and Perrie, lit sleazy and dim by the bedside lamp.

“She gets the fancy lingerie and I’m in like, your smelly old clothes?” The breathlessness in Zayn’s voice makes it hard for him to sound as snide as he clearly wants to. “Ta _very_ much --” 

“You’re my girl,” Liam tells him simply. “It’s different. Sexier, for me. You asked what _I’d_ do.”

A little inhalation. “Oh. All right. Then what?”

“Then I’d get you on the bed. Tell you to get on your hands -- ah -- on your hands and knees.”

He can see it so clearly. Zayn kneeling for him, being a good girl for him, ass up in little black panties, dark hair hanging down, glancing shy and provocative over his shoulder.

“Fuck, yeah,” Zayn murmurs.

“Yeah. Hands and knees, and I tell her to -- push the t-shirt up, so I can see your breasts.”

“Why am I wearing the t-shirt at all, then?” 

“Christ, you’re a pain. You’re in the t-shirt cause it’s _my_ t-shirt, and it’s _my_ fantasy, and I said so,” Liam says, and thumbs a little roughly over Zayn’s clit. Zayn jerks gorgeously against him, his fingers stuttering on Liam’s dick. “Now be a good girl and listen.”

“-- okay,” Zayn says, slightly choked.

“She pushes it up so it’s um -- rucked up around your neck, like, hanging off your shoulders. So I can see your body. Your tits are fucking perfect, did you know? Just like, these pert little --” He squeezes one, damp and silky and cupping right into his palm, and hums with satisfaction. “God, I love getting my hands on them. Couldn’t stop thinking about them, you know, when you first showed us in the bus bathroom. How I wanted to just suck on them, get those tasty little nipples all wet and stiff in my mouth --”

“Shit,” Zayn manages, rolling back against him. “Okay.”

“Yeah. So she -- she’s got you like that, and you two just kiss some more for a while. I’d want to see her lying over you, like, she’s so gorgeous, she’d be so -- pink and white, and you’d be all golden under her. I’d want her rubbing herself all over you, maybe teasing you through your panties. She’d like your tits, too, I bet, want her hands all over them, want to pinch you and like, jiggle you a little, you know? She’d be playful, she’d make you laugh. I’d want that. And I’d want her to -- take charge of you a bit. I’d want her to pull on your hair, want to see your tongue when you kiss her. Want you to arch your back for her and moan like you do for me.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything. He bites his lip, turns his flushed face into Liam’s shoulder again.

“Then she’d, um -- she’d take your panties down. Just to your knees, cos you’d be so desperate for it you wouldn’t even want to take time to get them all the way off. And then she’d kiss your thighs until you were begging. And then she’d -- once you asked really nice -- she’d lick you out from behind. Hard and, and slow. I want to do that, by the way, I’m gonna do that -- I swear I’ll make you _cry_ \-- but the only thing about it, right, is I can’t see your face when I’m buried in your cunt. And I’m already so crazy for the way you look when you come.”

“Oh,” Zayn says, a shaky little breath. His hand’s stilled, and Liam fucks up into the circle of his fingers to get him moving again.

“But if _she_ does it, I could watch you,” he says softly. “While she gets her mouth wet with you and her chin all sloppy, puts her fingers in you and stretches you out inside. I’d help her get a pillow between her thighs to rub off on, because your cunt’s so good, the way you smell, the way you feel, I know she’d need to --”

“Where,” Zayn starts, and swallows the next word. “Where. Are you this whole time?”

Liam laughs, a little surprised. He runs a hand down Zayn’s wet, slim arm, laces his fingers with Zayn’s, their hips canting together. “Dunno. Guess I’m in like, a chair, or something.”

“I want you on the bed with me,” Zayn says, distractedly touching Liam’s lower belly. “Can you -- be on the bed?”

Liam’s chest feels tight and glowing. “Yeah, babe. Of course I can.” He slides the heel of his hand up against Zayn’s cunt and Zayn grinds down on it, biting his lip. “I’m on the bed. Want to tell me what I’m doing?”

“Um,” Zayn says. His voice is tight, and his hips move in little stutters to slick his cunt back and forth over Liam’s hand. “I just -- just so you could touch me. When it gets too much. Just touch me. Stroke my hair, or -- _ahh_ ,” as Liam slides two fingers into him, really slow. 

“Yes,” Liam says, the only word he can think of. He crooks his finger back against the plush heat inside Zayn’s body, pressing down hard on Zayn’s lower belly with his other hand to get the pressure right, and Zayn whines, shuddering.

“Or I could. Suck you, while her tongue’s in me --”

“Fuck!” Liam drops his sweating forehead to Zayn’s shoulder, turns to sink his teeth into Zayn’s wet skin. His erection throbs against Zayn’s ass. 

Zayn exhales. He rolls his hips back so Liam’s dick fucks through the crease of his ass, the slide of that flesh too much and not enough. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” he says. His voice is so small it sounds like a confession, like something to be ashamed of.

“Sweetheart,” Liam says helplessly. His voice cracks on the way out. “I will. I will, I promise, okay? Turn around, I want to --” and he’s pulling his fingers out of Zayn’s heat, Zayn keening softly with the loss. He taps at Zayn’s hip, trying to maneuver him. The tub’s spacious but it’s still just a bathtub, and water washes out over the side as Zayn turns clumsily to straddle him. 

“Get the, um,” Liam says, straining for the hanging showerhead, but it’s too far. Zayn leans way back -- and his belly goes tight and beautiful when he arches like that, Liam’s hands looking pink and raw against his smooth hips -- and grabs it, slapping the faucet on as he does. He just holds it for a second, eyes on Liam’s, the shower water pattering like rain into the bath.

“Give me that,” Liam says. “ _If_ you please.”

There’s a quick flash of mischief in Zayn’s eyes, and for a second Liam thinks he’s about to get sprayed in the face -- but then Zayn just hands it over to him, careful not to twist up the rubber line. 

Liam gets it under without bothering to aim yet, the thrum of new heat pulsing through the water against his hip. He pulls Zayn in close by the nape of the neck and kisses him, uncurling his tongue in that soft, bittersweet mouth.

“Here,” he says, muffled on Zayn’s tongue. He grabs Zayn’s unresisting wrist, pulls it under the water. “Put your fingers in yourself, love, will you -- open up, show me you can -- ”

Zayn nods. His eyes are closed: his lashes are damp and his mouth hangs open, swollen and red. Liam takes the back of his hand, strokes his knuckles as Zayn pushes two fingers up into himself. The high, sobbing breath he huffs out makes Liam’s blood pound in his ears.

He presses his hand up against Zayn’s, pushing Zayn’s fingers deeper, and with the other hand he turns the shower against Zayn’s clit. Zayn gasps and buckles at the waist, spine bowing beautifully.

“Good girl,” Liam’s murmuring mindlessly, rutting up between Zayn’s thighs, water splashing around them, slicking himself on the wet heat of Zayn’s cunt, “that’s my good girl, my beautiful girl. You’re gonna come for me like this, aren’t you? Tell me you’re gonna come for me, you’re gonna come screaming my name --”

Zayn nods again, frantic. The tendons in his forearm wire tense and loosen rhythmically as he fucks himself, pushing little hurt sounds out of his throat.

Liam gathers Zayn in closer, grabbing his ass, and runs his finger down the smooth crease of it. “Here,” he says softly. 

He presses his fingertip against the dip of Zayn’s hole and Zayn draws in a trembling breath: and then Liam pushes a finger into his ass, slow, just to the first knuckle. 

“Liam,” Zayn whispers, the word hitching. Liam can almost feel the push of Zayn’s own fingers in his cunt through the thin inner wall of flesh, how full Zayn is.

“Say it again,” Liam pleads.

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn almost wails: and then Liam pushes the showerhead harder against his clit and Zayn screams for him, just like he promised. 

He comes undone so gorgeously, trembling and heaving. His voice shaking through Liam’s name, over and over. 

Liam can’t stop humping up into him, finger still tight in Zayn’s ass. He drops the showerhead and lets it swing underwater, a gentle pummel against the side of their bodies. He slides his hand over Zayn’s shining tits, pushes the heavy wet mass of Zayn’s hair aside so he can kiss them, nipples brushing hard on his lips. He bites at them, noses at the damp valley between those little mounds. He kisses Zayn’s throat too and the still-sharp cut of his jaw, hips shuddering up between Zayn’s thighs. 

“Shit, shit,” Zayn gasps. He’s got his fingers out of his cunt and he’s pushing his hips down, body still twitching, groping at Liam’s balls as he lets Liam rub off against his twat. “Keep -- going, I want to see you --” 

“Oh,” Liam says desperately, “fuck, Zayn, I’m gonna,” and Zayn kisses him again, palming the side of his face, licking desperately into his mouth. 

He’s mumbling “yes, yeah, come on. Come on, babes. Come on, do it. Do it.”

It’s two, three hard shakes of light. His muscles snap loose like a whiplash, his toes curl against the porcelain. He buries his face between Zayn’s breasts, clutching the small of Zayn’s back so they’re arched hard together, and the noise he makes is muffled in that wet, fragrant skin. 

He can feel his whole body shaking, his fingers, the tiny muscles in his throat.

“Fuck,” Zayn is breathing. “Motherfuck. Fuck.” His fingers card up the back of Liam’s neck, winding into his hair. “Fuck! Fuck.”

“Yes!” Liam says. He’s actually laughing, breathless with laughter, giddy and foolish. “Yes.”

“You didn’t even,” Zayn says. He drags Liam’s head back by the hair and kisses his mouth hungrily. “You tease, you bastard, you didn’t even fuck me. Oh, fuck.” Now he’s laughing too.

“This’s all foreplay, love, plenty of time left,” Liam says. He feels weightless. “God, look at you. Look at you. You’re so gorgeous. I want to -- fucking come all over you.” He’s just nutted and it’s still not enough. He wants to come all over Zayn’s smooth belly and his tits, on his ass and in the sweet dip of his spine, wants to drench his long eyelashes in it, smear it all glossy over Zayn’s lips. Wants to come inside him and fill him up like that, to be welcomed so deep into Zayn’s body. “Sorry. And -- romantic stuff, too. But I do.”

“Too late,” Zayn says. “You’ve jizzed in the bath already. Fuck! Next time, though.” 

Liam makes a sound. He kisses the side-swell of Zayn’s breast because it’s the part closest to his mouth.

“I wish I could make you come like this, this girl thing,” Zayn’s saying shakily. “Jesus, Liam, you don’t know, it’s like....your whole body, like it’s not just...I can’t describe it. How it feels. You’re.” He shakes his head. “This is the best,” he says. “You’re the best.”

“I worked really hard,” Liam says honestly. “I’m not naturally good at sex. I practiced a lot. That sounds quite sexy, but it’s not. I mean I had to practice on the same people.”

Zayn’s fingers tighten in his hair. “By the way," he says, "I love you. And not just because you made me come so hard I think I like, went out of my body and -- and like fucking, became one with the universe and shit. Liam. I love you so much.” 

Liam kisses him. The water ripples gently around their bodies.

“But you are gonna fuck me with your dick eventually though, right?” Zayn murmurs into the kiss. Liam can feel the curve of his smile. 

“If you’re going to beg, I suppose,” Liam says, heaving a put-upon sigh. “Things I do for you.” 

“Lovely,” Zayn says, “now close your eyes, because --” and he snatches up the showerhead, whip-fast, and sprays Liam in the face.

**Author's Note:**

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> Shayn Mitchlik. I'm telling you guys.


End file.
